Intransigent Incompatibility
by DemonUntilDeath
Summary: Sometimes people say things they don't mean. Pain and anger lead to harsh thoughts that would never otherwise be vocalized. And we don't mean these things we say, so we take them back. But the damage always remains. Yuuram
1. Intransigent Incompatibility

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou

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Intransigent Incompatibility

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"I told you it was all an accident!" Yuuri Shibuya, the 27th Maou of Shin Makoku, was not always the best with words. "I don't want to be your stupid fiancé!"

Indeed, he would often say things he hadn't meant to say. Sometimes it was just a stumble through what he had meant. Other times, he would phrase his questions in the most inappropriate manner, not having meant to, and not realizing until after.

The King was usually a polite, bashful demon who thought that words should be soft and never hard. His mother had taught him that he should only speak with soft words, in case he had to eat them tomorrow.

He was not known for yelling, though he did have an alter-ego that had a tendency to get a little vocal. But, in general, his tone was always forgiving and his words always kind, even when he stumbled over them.

It was only around his fiancé that he had an odd inability to hold his tongue. Around the temperamental blonde he called a best friend, thoughts would form into words before he realized he'd thought or even said them.

And then later, after his fiancé had thoroughly burned him to a crisp, he would wonder: _Why did I say that?_

This was one such instance.

"Well, fine!" Wolfram von Bielefeld, former prince and current fiancé of the Maou, was not always the best when it came to handling his anger. "Why don't we just call it off right now, Wimp!"

Indeed, he had never been known as a gentle prince and was, on occasion, known to chase people away with his fire, both literally and figuratively. He was spoiled from a young age by those who did not want to be on the receiving end of his sharp blade and sharper tongue. And it was his very nature, as a wielder of fire, that had given further birth to the anger he could not control.

Usually, the prince's outbursts were tolerable. Something would upset him and he would immediately storm off, no longer forcing anyone to deal with his fits. Other times, he would cross his arms and act childishly, knowing that obstinate behavior often granted him what he wanted.

He was known for his rash decisions – decisions he usually based off of the emotions that raged so strongly within him. It was not that he was unintelligent or misinformed. It was, when he tried to contemplate it, that he felt things so fully that he simply had to act on them.

And it was around his fiancé that he felt the strongest. Wolfram had loved few times in his life, but when he had, he had loved deep and been hurt deeper. So when he had found himself falling slowly in love with the King of Shin Makoku, he had done everything possible to ignore it.

And when that failed, he had decided that the only solution was to make sure Yuuri never hurt him. He stopped the boy from even approaching anyone he could cheat on him with. He ended any wimpy ideas about leaving. He continuously brought up their pending marriage.

The depths of his emotions and the level of strength through which he felt them, usually ended with all of these 'precautions' happening by means of yelling or burning.

For instance, like now.

Yuuri yelped as the fire licked just above his head and he sent a pleading look towards his fiancé. "Wolfram, please stop!" He was alarmed by instinct, but something told him that the blonde would never really hurt him. Physically at least.

The prince let out an outraged cry, sounding more like a roar as he pulled his fire back. The ball of heat danced in the palm of his hand and lit his eyes like dying embers. "You stupid, stupid wimp!"

Yuuri backed up, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Come on, Wolf, you know I didn't mean it!"

The fire died out suddenly, leaving the blonde looking at him in something akin to revelation. Yuuri, hesitant to trust the suddenly danger-free boy, glanced around uncertainly. He slowly lowered his arms as Wolfram stared at him, green eyes unreadable. "Wolf?"

"You didn't mean it." The words were an echo, both hollow and hopeful at the same time. Guilt drove a small wedge into Yuuri's heart, realizing that empty voice was partially his fault. Wolfram was always scary after an argument, either too furious to even have a discussion with or so despairing it was heart-wrenching.

"I didn't mean it," Yuuri repeated, trying to put all his sincerity into those words. Wolfram blinked, as if whatever thought he had been momentarily paused on started to play again. He crossed his arms and Yuuri was immediately on the defensive, though keeping his reaction as placid as possible.

"That's it, Wimp." The statement would have caused Yuuri to flinch, spelling out his soon-to-be doom, if it wasn't for the tone it was said in. A revelation. "Sometimes we say things we don't mean."

The boy-king, unsure where this was going, merely nodded. Wolfram accepted this as his agreement and gave a nod back, as if strengthening his decision. "Alright, then. Just tell me you didn't mean it and we'll let it go."

Yuuri blinked this time, disbelief in his eyes. Let it go? That was not the usual Bielefeld motto, that's for sure. He voiced his uncertainty and was met with the intense, challenging eyes of his fiancé.

"If you meant it-" he ignored the sudden frantic gestures and denials by Yuuri "-when you said you didn't mean your words, than I have no reason to doubt you. Just as you have no reason to doubt me when I say I didn't mean it."

Yuuri let his arms fall to his sides, still very uncertain about his fiancé's words. He wasn't used to the relatively docile form of truce coming from the blond. He nodded slowly. "Alright," he replied, though the hesitancy to trust this new development was obvious. "I didn't mean what I said so…I take it back."

Wolfram gave a sharp nod, always a soldier. "I take my words back as well."

That seemed to end the fight. Luckily – and perhaps one of the only reasons it actually worked – no one was there to witness. Rumors spread that a fight had started and was easily broken up, but the conjectures as to why ranged far and wide.

But Yuuri was happy. The rest of the day passed smoothly, and Wolfram seemed placated for the time being.

It was several days before their next fight and, throughout those peaceful days, Yuuri couldn't help but wonder if Wolfram had really let it go. And, of course, a fight eventually escalated because of his doubts.

"If you can't trust me, how are you ever going to marry me?" Wolfram shouted out, the pain clear in his green eyes. It was not certain if he had fully let their previous argument go, and Yuuri never did find out.

"I don't want to marry you, Wolfram!"

The pain in those emerald eyes stopped him once again and he immediately knew he had let the words leave his mouth without thinking. Those large eyes, so feminine in their appearance and yet so fierce in their depths, were always what got him.

Wolfram wore his emotions not on a sleeve but in his eyes. And whenever Yuuri would speak his words without pausing to weigh them first, those eyes would be his downfall. Something akin to betrayal would fill them; the pain swallowing them up like skin swallows a dagger, stabbed directly into the heart.

And that was the only analogy Yuuri had for it, though, by looking at those eyes, he couldn't imagine even a dagger hurting that much.

"Wolf, I-"

He was interrupted as a pale, slim hand was raised. He immediately flinched, fearing the fire that could be pulled forth from that palm, but his fiancé did not summon it. Instead, he closed his eyes and let his breathing even out.

"It's alright," he began calmly and slowly opened his eyes. The emotion was still there; the pain dimmed but ever present. "Sometimes we say things we don't mean. I didn't mean to…force my…_emotions_ on you."

He struggled through the words, obviously reluctant to once more deny that Yuuri did not, in fact, want to be wed to him. But he managed to vocalize them, and for that there was a small amount of despairing pride welling in his chest.

Yuuri felt it too, and it gave him strength. "And I didn't mean what I said."

Wolfram nodded again, this time a little quickly, making his head bobble up and down. Yuuri moved over to him, feeling more confident that his best friend had truly let it go this time.

And he didn't doubt the boy's words again.

Nearly a month passed before their next big fight; though it was vicious and had fireballs flying before Yuuri even had a chance to loose his tongue. But it happened, as it always did when Wolfram failed to reign in his anger.

"Why don't you just say it, Wimp!" Wolfram screamed, fire making the air hot and stuffy, only furthering Yuuri's own growing agitation. "Tell me you want that harlot instead of me!"

"Maybe I do!" Yuuri yelled back, fists clenching. Somewhere in him, the Maou was stirring at the increased levels of anger. But he held him back. "At least she won't yell at me for doing nothing!"

"Nothing is all you ever do!" Wolfram howled and the stream of fire got dangerously close, despite Yuuri's quick dodge. "I do everything you want, Yuuri, yet all you do nothing in return but flirt and cheat on me!"

"I've never cheated on you!" the king rebuked, trying to defend what pride and honor he had. "You and I aren't even together!"

This was an unwise choice of words and Yuuri knew it after he spoke, of course. The fire grew hotter, but never singed him. Wolfram would never hurt him.

"What does she have that I don't?" the boy rebuked and Yuuri could see the pain in his eyes once more, there among the rage, being swallowed by it. "Breasts? A womb to bare your children?"

"That isn't it!" Yuuri screamed and, later, he would wonder if those words were true. He claimed his first step into a relationship with Wolfram would not happen because the blonde was a boy. Wouldn't that mean the prince's words had some truth to them?

"Then what?" Ferocity, a type of anger that was overwhelmed with the frustration of not ever getting what he wanted, what he thought he deserved, fueled Wolfram now. And there was little he believed could stop him.

"She isn't you!"

Except, perhaps, that. The fire died quicker than under any water Yuuri could have summoned to kill it. His body was shaking, perhaps from the extreme usage of maryoku, or the anger still boiling in his veins. Yuuri immediately opened his mouth to apologize, but closed it, unsure of what to say.

He hadn't meant it.

Black eyes looked up to Wolfram, waiting for him to say it. Hoping he would say it so he could make this all better. Make it all go away.

It took the blonde longer this time, eyes wavering even as they slid shut and he reigned in every ounce of anger that made his body quiver, that made his eyes sting and the back of this throat ache. His breathing was rough and it took more than just a few calming breathes to stop his heaving.

Finally, green eyes slide open. They were a little more steeled against anything Yuuri might say, but they were also fighting to accept his words. Accept that he hadn't meant them.

"Sometimes, we say things we don't mean." The words were familiar by now, a mantra the two of them would dance to, to keep themselves from faltering.

Yuuri nodded quickly. "I didn't mean it Wolf, I swear." The words were sincere, a pleading for a second chance. And, of course, Wolfram would grant it. He nodded and that was the end of it. Their fight was over and they could go back to being friends.

It took everything he had in him, but the prince was able to forget those words for the next several months. They had skirmishes, clashes where the two very nearly came to exchanging words they would both regret, but then they remembered their previous fight and respectively tucked away their angry tongues.

Yuuri had small bruises all over the muscle from biting down on it, a way to keep himself silent when the rest of him wanted to rebuke without warning.

Wolfram had taken to meditating, an activity Conrad had once attempted to teach him. It had never taken because he wasn't ever able to calm down enough just to begin. But breathing exercises and visualization were now key parts in his attempts to control his anger.

It wasn't until after the King's birthday celebration, a large ball and festivities held in his honor, that their silent methods of coping finally broke down.

"All you had to do was ask for one dance, you wimp!" Wolfram's accusation stung Yuuri because, this time, he knew he was right. At the party, on the night of his birthday, he had danced with any woman who asked for his hand but when the last courtier stopped, conspicuously close to Wolfram, and asked if he was going to dance with his fiancé that night…

He had turned to the blonde, mouth flapping like a fish, and panicked. 'No,' he had said, turning back to her with a charming smile that usually got him out of most of the situations he managed to back himself into while in Shin Makoku. 'Wolfram doesn't want to dance.'

"Yet, like the idiot you are, you embarrassed me. Again!" Wolfram was near tears this time, something Yuuri had never seen. Guilt was eating at him, even as the blonde boy's anger began to grow.

Wolfram was boiling, pain fueling the rage he had been holding back for so long. Frustrated, his eyes searched frantically before landing on the brush lying atop the vanity. Grabbing it, he chucked it at Yuuri, followed by the small hand-held mirror.

The king ducked both, the later shattering against the wall behind him. "I can't take your rejection anymore, Yuuri!"

"I'm sorry, Wolfram." The ruler commented numbly, knowing he needed to say more than just that. His words froze in his throat, however, when the blonde slid the formal coat off of his white military shirt. Black eyes blinked in surprise as it was chucked carelessly onto the bed and Wolfram moved over to their wardrobe.

It wasn't until he started pulling out more than one outfit that Yuuri started to feel the edges of panic overtake his confusion. "What are you doing?" His voice sounded small, terrified, but he couldn't help it.

"I'm leaving." Wolfram's words were solid, said without hesitation. Yuuri panicked, taking a hasty step forward, then faltering.

"Wait…Wolfram, you can't just leave…" The blonde boy wasn't listening, pulling on his usual military jacket and folding the other two outfits into a small bag he had pulled from out as well. Neither seemed to realize that there was only two day's worth of clothes in that dreaded bag.

Yuuri held out a hand when the blonde slung the pack on his back and turned towards him, intent to leave through the door behind him. "Please, Wolfram, I don't want you to go." The words seem to halt his fiancé for a moment, but the blonde shook his head.

"Goodbye, Yuuri."

The king panicked; his mind searching for anyway he could make the blonde stay. Anything that would stop him from pushing past him and entering the hall. Eyes lit up even as their bedroom door was opened and Wolfram stepped through it.

"Sometimes we don't always mean what we say." The prince froze, back to the King, unwilling to move. Yuuri swallowed, letting the hope that he had said the right thing fuel his courage. "And I didn't say the right thing. I should have asked you to dance."

Wolfram's head tilted slightly, resisting the urge to turn back and look at Yuuri. He lost the battle; looking uncertainly over his shoulder at the boy he called his true love. Black eyes were once more sincere.

"Please tell me you didn't mean it, too." Those words were whispered, still terrified. Wolfram couldn't bring himself to break those words or the heart behind him. He dropped his bag, knowing full well he would never have left anyways.

"I didn't mean it."

He was swept up in a hug, strengthening arms wrapping around him and pressing his fair features into a ceremonial black shirt. "Thank you, Wolfram." Though the words were whispered in his ear and the embrace was something that he had dreamed of doing with Yuuri before, more so as lovers than they were now, he found himself unable to relax in it.

Something seemed vaguely wrong to him, as if he should catch something that wasn't there. But his heart was aching as sharply as his eyes, so he dismissed the feeling, and stiffly wrapped his arms around his fiancé.

It was nearly a year before their next argument. Yuuri had been on his best behavior since the birthday celebration, even asking Wolfram to dance at one of the balls they held some months later. The prince had long ago cast aside that strange inclination that there was something wrong with this situation.

He ignored the fact that every disagreement they had was quickly waved aside or swept under a bulging rug by words of 'it isn't true' or 'that's not what I meant'. He ignored the fact that Yuuri was now often the one to recite their mantra and did so often to keep an argument from forming.

Wolfram let it all be swept away with those words, the voice that foretold danger better than the Bad Omen birds, the stiff pain in his heart that grew firmer with each dismissed quarrel. He let it all be waved away because Yuuri was happiest in the weeks when they didn't argue.

And he was happiest when Yuuri was happy.

It wasn't until Yuuri returned from Earth one night, flustered and a little surprised to have traveled back, that those inclinations became too much. He obviously hadn't meant to do so. Wolfram had quickly forced everyone who had come to greet the boy-king at the fountain to turn around, supplying his fiancé's strangely nude form with a towel.

The raven-haired boy took the offered fabric with a smile, not noticing Wolfram's eyes, which were staring at his neck and not his face.

The prince did not say anything, simply nodded and let Yuuri cover himself up. In fact, he didn't say anything as the king climbed into the carriage, surprised when Wolfram climbed onto a horse to ride outside. Yuuri began to worry, nervously, that something was up. He fidgeted throughout dinner, where his fiancé remained by his side, calmly eating his supper.

It wasn't until they got back to their room, that Wolfram turned on him, arms crossed, face set, that he knew he was definitely in trouble. "Who is she?"

Yuuri, immediately caught off guard, stuttered. "Wh-What?"

Wolfram's eyes were blazing fires, but his breathing, for the most part, remained calm, a result of nearly a year of meditation and exercises. "The whore that left that mark on your neck. Who is she?"

The boy immediately clasped a hand to his throat, knowing exactly what the prince was talking about and why he had been so angry that day. "Wolfram, I-"

Fire lit the room, swirling in a tightly controlled ball in the blonde's palm. "I will not ask again, Yuuri! Who is she?"

"Just a classmate!" The boy replied quickly, his voice gaining volume to match Wolfram's. "It was nothing, I swear-"

"How could you?" The fire blazed higher, lighting the entire room. The candles, most in scones on the walls, flickered, growing taller and stronger with the power Wolfram was fluctuating. "I trusted you, Yuuri! I thought you'd gotten over this!"

The words, angry and accusing, brought out a certain anger in the King that he had not been expecting. Something about the prince's words got under his skin and he growled slightly, the Maou stirring once more. "Gotten over what, Wolfram? Women?"

"Yes, women." The word was spat like venom. The fire danced, flickering as Wolfram's arms shook in rage. Yuuri could feel the heat climbing and the oxygen burning as the prince kept two pillars of flames growing from the base of his hands, but never out of his control.

"Well, guess what, Wolfram," Yuuri shouted back, annoyed that everything he did was seen and judged by the boy before him, a boy he had continuously reminded he was not involved with. "I like women! I'm not ever going to 'get over them.'"

"God damn you, Yuuri," the prince swore, turning his eyes away as they began to tear. He shook his head, looking back, knowing the anger in his eyes would overwhelm whatever pain he was feeling. The fury lying just beneath his skin was almost out of his control for the first time in a year. "I'm your fiancé! I should mean more to you than any woman you'll ever meet!"

The boy-king immediately rebuked, his tongue getting away from him once more. "You're not my fiancé! I've told you, Wolfram, the engagement was an accident!"

The fires grew, licking the tall ceilings. Luckily, the stone did nothing more than blacken, but the air quickly being burned away was starting to become a true concern for the king, only fraying the edges of his tolerance further.

"If you don't want to be married to me, than break off the damn engagement!" Wolfram screamed. "It's obviously means nothing to you!"

Yuuri growled out, instincts taking over as he summoned his water, keeping his body cool in the heated room and reached out, using the tendrils of water to push the windows open, letting in the air the two would desperately need soon. The room was beginning to crackle under the opposing energies.

"Damn it, Wolfram, calm down and listen to me!"

"No!" The scream was almost ear-shattering and Wolfram slung his hand to the side, wall of fire meeting water next to the windows and releasing a cache of steam that hissed in the night air. "I'm done listening to you, Yuuri! I'm done putting up with your flirting and cheating. I'm done thinking you'll ever love me!"

"I could never love you!"

The words were out of his mouth before he realized it.

The room was immediately cast back into the dark blue light of night. Yuuri's eyes were wide, suddenly bright in the dark room, all traces of fire gone. Wolfram was shaking so badly he couldn't move, his body trembling visibly even from the kings distance.

The water tendrils disappeared, splashing to the floor and soaking into the rugs and furniture that covered the stone.

A hand was tightly clasped over the King's mouth, as if he had tried to catch the words and failed. Emerald green eyes were staring only at him and the pain in them was palpable.

It was like every other time…only much, much worse.

But like every other time, they had been able to get past it. He took a tentative step forward. "I…I didn't mean it, Wolfram."

And then it was gone. The blonde blinked at him, a form of revelation in his eyes he hadn't seen in almost two years. Something dropped into his stomach, foretelling dread and doom, but he pushed it to the side, praying that he had gotten through to Wolfram.

That they could go back to normal.

Normal, as Wolfram as realizing, was to push everything aside like it didn't matter. Normal was now when his uncontrollable anger would push Yuuri to use his uncontrollable words, and they would say it didn't matter. Oh well.

And it had become an excuse to act on their anger and say what they wanted. Because, in the end, like normal, it wouldn't matter. Because they didn't mean it.

Looking at Yuuri now, Wolfram had his revelation.

"Sometimes, we say things we don't mean," he announced, drawing himself up amid the destruction of the room. Yuuri's eyes lit slightly, the hope in them speaking of his relief. His hope that they would do as they always did and push it behind them.

Wolfram met those eyes, stared into the black depths and accepted that everything the two of them had ever said, they had meant. "This isn't one of those times."

Yuuri's eyes changed slowly – widening in realization, but the understanding came too late. Wolfram had already drawn his sword from its sheath and thrown it at his King's feet. He let what was left of his anger take over, forfeiting rationality. His fiancé, not understanding, started at the loud clang of metal on stone. He looked to the sword, then back to its owner.

"Goodbye."

Wolfram turned and walked out of his bedroom. And Yuuri knew, this time, he meant it.

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Intransigent Incompatibility

_The refusal to change one's inability to exist with another in harmony_

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Thank you for reading and please review!


	2. Acquiescing Affinity

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou

**Notes**: Thank you for everyone who asked for the continuation of this story! I wrote it for all of you.

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Acquiescing Affinity

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"I'm not marrying you!"

Black eyes widened at the proclamation – loud and almost angry. The rest of the room, filled with courtiers and nobles attending the autumn ball, silenced, turning to the commotion in the center of the room.

A young maiden, fit in a slim, red dress beautiful enough for any queen, stood before the King of Shin Makoku. Her hand was cast protectively between her breasts, her other hand wrapped around it nervously as she stared in shock at Yuuri.

From the red mark still marring the young boy's cheek, it was clear what had just transpired.

"I- I didn't…." Among the stunned silence of the room and the whispers already beginning to break out, Yuuri stopped. He closed his black eyes, the revelation of a habit that had cost him once before stopped him from continuing. He stood frozen in the center of the room, caught in a moment of thought and calming, before he once more opened his eyes to the noble woman before him.

A small smile formed on his lips. It was no longer the usual expression he would use to get himself out of any situation; not that innocent and kind-hearted grin that would claim his obliviousness. It was a smaller gesture filled with scattered traces of nostalgic regret buried within in a curved smile. "No, I did mean it, but I shouldn't have said it so rudely. And for that, I apologize."

The young girl who had so boldly slapped their monarch's cheek only nodded, her cheeks flushed red now that the entire room had been called to attention. She looked up, obviously upset from the tears in her eyes, as the King grabbed each of her hands in his own, pulling them away from their sheltered position.

"You're beautiful and sweet, but I can't marry you," he began anew, working hard to keep his words even and say what he needed to say, what he _meant_ to say. "You see, I'm already engaged."

The new change in the king often left nobles merely nodding in his wake, too taken with his honesty and new-found maturity to argue or even take offense. They would just numbly accept his words and watch him depart immediately afterward, though never with such haste as to be rude.

And this young courtier was no different, nodding as Yuuri cleared up his loud and rude refusal before giving her hands a light squeeze and excusing himself. On such occasions, he would never remain long and it was always a different prompt that had him leaving.

A proposal he would always refuse; a question about future heirs; a document about finding a certain blond deserter.

Only Conrad really knew where Yuuri went during these moments.

Gwendel, still too angry with their king to act anything but professional around him, let him have his time uninterrupted. Gunter, perhaps the least affected, would drop his cheerful façade and acknowledge that his presence was not wanted, and so would not pursue the king he so often chased after. Greta was most commonly asleep when such things occurred, or otherwise preoccupied in Anissina's lab and safely removed from the stupidity of men.

And everyone knew there wouldn't be a fiery blond chasing him through the castle anymore.

There was a second ball room in Blood Pledge Castle, not nearly as large or as grand as the one usually reserved for celebrations, but still an impressive installation. Its marble floors and high raised pillars could fit more than two hundred and the floor-to-ceiling windows along the far wall allowed a copious amount of light to enter, be it sun or moon.

Due to its lack of use and, frankly, the fact that most residents forgot about its existence entirely, the large scone torches along the pillars and walls remained unlit. And during these times when the King, who initially stumbled upon the room by accident, would sneak through the fifteen-foot double doors, the room was lit entirely by natural light.

Usually at night, as the king was often busy with affairs of state during the hours of daylight, the moon would cast a sheen of silver within the room, creating an atmosphere of hazy blues and whites. To most, it might have been calm, peaceful, perhaps even a littler mysterious.

To Yuuri, it was the perfect complement to his already dejected and sorrowful mood.

The wall-to-wall windows opened directly onto a balcony that spanned the length of the ballroom and it was usually here that Yuuri would come to a stop in his escape. He would lean against the thick stone railing that overlooked the back side of Shin Makoku's capital, a view up into the mountains and the moon that rose above them.

Conrad, always positioning himself just inside the ballroom doors, would watch from a distance, a peaceful look upon his seemingly guarded features. But there was always a sorrow in his eyes, something no one else would witness in the dark blue of that room.

Because he might be the only one who knew where Yuuri went during times like these, but everyone knew who it was the king thought about.

To many, when he would abruptly stand and excuse himself, sometimes from a meeting with nobles or from the stifling hours of paperwork, he was running away. But those that knew Yuuri, knew he was running toward something and that only his uncertainties and fears kept him from finding it.

Or, more appropriately, finding him.

Wolfram had left more than four months ago and Yuuri had not left the castle since. Perhaps it was the fear of running into him should he leave the confines of the stone walls, but Conrad had a feeling that was not the case. As he watched his godson stand at the balcony nearly every night, he came to the conclusion that Yuuri was running towards Wolfram when he ran from his work or the nobles or the grand parties.

But his thoughts would stop him from leaving, his uncertainty in why it was that Wolfram left. His uncertainty in why he had yet to follow him.

And Conrad knew, with each realization brought about by a painful memory and hours on a balcony in the cold air, he was getting closer and closer to his answer.

Yuuri sighed, leaning a little more heavily on his arms that rested against the cold stone of the railing. The moon had risen some time ago, lighting the balcony and lands below with its half-formed glow. His shoulders, having desired the long-needed rest, slumped as he bowed his back, forehead coming to rest on the railing between his arms.

He had made a royal mess of everything.

'_I'm not marrying you_.'

As always, he had let something else blurt from his mouth without thinking. Recently, that had been happening less (he didn't want to think about why), but when it did, he found himself inescapably in need of time to think.

Because every time it happened now, it was always somehow about Wolfram.

Wolfram had been missing for four months and without the blond soldier, a crutch Yuuri had come to depend on, he was left alone with his thoughts.

'_I'm already engaged_."

Why, why had he said it? He sighed, warm breath brushing against the cold stone, creating a puff of visible condensation. Probably for the same reason he'd said everything else without thinking.

'_I'm not interested in marrying anyone_' when Gunter and Conrad had addressed him on the matter of finding a queen.

'_He hasn't deserted!' _when Gwendal had, stiffly, presented him with a document for Wolfram's search and arrest. _'He just needs time and then he'll come back!'_

'_No one's going to replace Wolfram,' _when Greta had broken down in sobs, clinging to him in their old bedroom and begging him not to find a woman to fill her Papa's place.

Though he wasn't sure where the thoughts had come from, or why he was unable to stop them from forming into words, Yuuri knew that each and every word had been meant and one-hundred percent true.

And the reason lay with Wolfram von Bielefeld.

Since the blond's departure, Yuuri had given a lot of thought to, well, everything. He couldn't go after Wolfram until he understood why the fiery boy had left, otherwise, he would just mess the whole thing up again. In the beginning, tackling the question had proven useless and it wasn't until he had an epiphany one night, staring down at the bed the two used to share and the pink, frilly nightgown laid out on it, that he realized the reason.

He didn't know a thing about Wolfram. The prince had been his best friend for years, and he didn't really know a thing about him. His favorite color, his favorite food, why he got so angry all the time. Why he loved Yuuri so much. Why he left, despite it all.

To understand that, he soon concluded, he would need to understand Wolfram. And so it was that he came face to face with the biggest problem he had ever yet to solve: breaking down everything about the prince and his friendship with the King.

He had realized early on in the four months that Wolfram had played a much greater role in his life than he had ever realized. The blond had always been there: when he woke, when he ate, when he wandered the halls or snuck out for adventures, and when he went to sleep.

With his absence it was now quiet, peaceful. Boring.

Without realizing it, the fire demon had become a crutch, one which left Yuuri stumbling in its absence. It wasn't until his voice was gone from the halls that he realized Wolfram would call him a wimp when he was feeling uncertain and incapable. It wasn't until Wolfram was no longer there to tell him the truth that he realized the blond had always spoken when he needed it, despite everyone else hiding it from him, despite the knowledge that telling him might result in disaster.

The boy would always say what he needed to hear. His addresses were always blunt, painful, but true and it had always been exactly what Yuuri needed to know to act appropriately, even if he didn't realize it.

Without that voice constantly there, the reminders of wimpiness and how to be a good king, Yuuri swayed with uncertainty and stumbled with distrust. He was used to his advisers hiding things from him, but he wasn't used to staying in the dark about it.

And that was unacceptable.

Within a month, he had ordered a meeting – one of his first actual commands in more than a year. He had sat everyone down and told them, confidence climbing when he realized Wolfram would be proud of his strength, that there would be no more secrets.

He wasn't a great King, he understood that. But he couldn't grow and become a better one if they hid all the important stuff away. If they thought he couldn't handle it. A King would be nothing without his advisers and the people who stand by him, that's what he had said, but he couldn't have people by him that didn't tell him the truth when he needed it most.

Sure, it had led to several arguments and two misadventures that, luckily, ended with no injuries, but the important part was that they told him things now. And every time he met Gunter's eyes, there was a pride there that hadn't been before. And when Conrad talked to him, usually as they tossed a baseball back and forth between studies, he did so more as a friend and equal than a father figure teaching a young boy.

He was slowly growing, and it was all thanks to the boy that wasn't there.

Another thing he'd quickly realized was that Wolfram had not been nearly as selfish as everyone claimed him to be. With every night he spent on his balcony, Yuuri would analyze another aspect of their friendship, and by the end of Wolfram's fifth week missing, he had come to this conclusion. Sure, he was spoiled and bratty, but Yuuri had eventually realized that everything the blond did was done primarily for the King.

And Yuuri had never really given him anything in return.

Wolfram had saved his life countless times, jumped in front of swords and daggers and crumbling rocks. Had caught him when he fell and bravely promised that he would never let him fall, or never let him fall alone.

The young soldier had dedicated everything he had – his pride, his life, his love – to Yuuri. And the boy couldn't see what he had ever given in return.

It was a delay he faced, not understanding why Wolfram could possibly love him.

Despite not comprehending it, it was another understanding he had come to finally accept in his time without his best friend. The blond, despite initial anger and hate, had truly come to love him. Yuuri wasn't sure when it had happened because he had ignored all mentions of the engagement or emotion expressed by Wolfram.

But the blond boy had loved him.

The key word being '_had'_ only provided another delay. Yuuri, who knew from words he blurted before he could possibly think about them, needed the blond. Something within his subconscious, something his mind clearly did not understand, or wasn't ready to understand, wasn't going to let the blond go.

And though he wasn't ready to contemplate just how tightly that part of him held onto Wolfram, he was also not ready to run after the blond with it.

Wolfram had left. He might not have any interest in him anymore. And Yuuri was not the type to force another to return when he didn't want it. He wasn't going to go against Wolfram's wishes without reason.

'_I'm already engaged_.'

Yuuri gave another sigh, straightening and looking up at the moon once more. He had meant those words, even though he hadn't realized they were in him. Because, technically, he wasn't engaged anymore, not since Wolfram had left.

They had talked about it, almost immediately afterward, and what it meant for the country. Reluctantly, and only after Conrad admitted to all that Wolfram was not going to come back on his own, they had made the disengagement formal.

And all Yuuri could think about was how mad Wolfram was going to be.

Thanks to one of his realizations nearly two months later, that meant that Wolfram was going to be hurt. Because, as it had become apparent during endless hours of slowly trying to untangle the being that was Wolfram Von Bielefeld, the blond hid all his emotions behind anger. And the angrier he was, the stronger the real emotion being felt.

Yuuri was beginning to see the differences between the boy's hurt anger and his happy anger and even his real anger. It was all in the stance he took and the words he used. 'Cheater' was hurt anger. 'Wimp' was happy anger. Fire was real anger.

'_I'm already engaged_.'

He'd meant it. Pulling away from the railing, Yuuri gave one last glance to the moon and walked back inside, meeting Conrad at the door. His thoughts remained out on the balcony and within that crowded ballroom.

A part of himself that he was just now understanding needed more than a crutch and it was that part of him that had spoken most often in these past four months.

'_I'm already engaged so I'm not interested in marrying anyone else because no one's going to replace Wolfram."_

He had meant it all, even if he had yet to realize why.

- o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o -

On the anniversary of the fifth month of Wolfram's departure, the kingdom was exceptionally busy. The ten nobles had chosen to convene, and do so at Blood Pledge Castle, to discuss the future of the country with the King.

Yuuri, fearing what this talk was going to be about, entered the meeting room with a heavy heart and dragging feet.

He sat down reluctantly, desiring to be anywhere but there. Luckily, with several hours of heartfelt pleading, they had agreed two meetings ago to disable that horrible chair. Now he sat at the head of a U-shaped table, with each of the ten nobles facing him.

And they did not look pleased.

The instinct to run – to make an excuse and _run_ – was stronger than ever. Yuuri, however, shoved it back down deep within himself. He had been growing; he had told his advisors and friends he could handle anything they had to tell him.

That meant he had to be able to handle the words of the ten nobles as well.

The meeting proceeded with its usual lengthy introduction and semi-pleasant exchanges of recent ordeals important to the kingdom. It wasn't until Gwendal cleared his throat, tired of the polite politics, that the real reason for convening was breached.

"With the recent desertion of Wolfram Von Bielefeld," Lord von Radford began, folding his hands before him while looking at the king. Waltorana was glaring at his tabletop but Yuuri could see the distress; the worry, in his eyes. "We are in need of an heir to rule in your place, should anything happen to you."

"This would be best suited in a Queen, Heika," Gunter intervened, letting the boy know what was being asked of him without hesitation, as they might have before.

Yuuri should his head. "I don't need a queen."

"Sire," Lord von Wincott's voice called Yuuri's attention to him and, as always, he wondered how much the young man resembled Julia, the soul the king supposedly housed within his own body, "without a queen, you have no Heir. Your adopted daughter is too young, and many in our country will not follow a human, despite the progress we have made."

In spite of Yuuri's obvious intent to interrupt, the nobles continued. "Without Shinou-Heika to appoint a ruler, the country must be guaranteed an heir to continue in your place; a child or spouse that will rule as you have," Lord Von Gyllenhaal spoke up, calculating eyes regarding the king.

Yuuri just shook his head, unwilling to let any words pass his lips. He was going to say something he would regret, specifically because he would mean it.

"For the security of this country, we have arranged several young nobles for your consideration." It was Waltorana who spoke this time, voice tight and his obvious discontent with this decision clear in his voice. But he was doing this for his country because the other nobles were right, they could not be without the certainty of an heir for long.

Watching the lord of Bielefeld concede to finding a replacement to his own nephew was the last straw for Yuuri. He slammed his fists down on the table, standing even as he did so. Holding his tongue, be damned, he would not watch this man, a man he had come to respect, agree to find him a bride.

Not someone to replace Wolfram. No one ever would – ever could. He wouldn't allow it.

"I won't be marrying anyone you pick for me!" he shouted out, meeting each and every one of their eyes. They stared at him in shock, mostly for his outburst rather than his words. But each found their voices soon enough, two even standing to debate his decision.

He ignored them all, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that he should shut up and sit down, but the rest of him unwilling. He was not going to allow these men to pick a bride for him; someone he didn't know, didn't love.

He had Wolfram, and he wasn't going to let anyone take his place.

"I already have a fiancé." Black eyes widened slightly, even as the words left his mouth and his thoughts caught up with him. But he had said it, and he knew without a doubt that he had meant it. And now, finally, after five months of near constant thought and analyzing, he knew why.

"Wolfram Von Bielefeld broke off your engagement, Maou-Heika."

Yuuri sent a withering glare in Gwendal's direction, tired of the constant reminder of his mistake expressed in every frown the older man would send him.

"I don't care. When I proposed, he challenged me in a dual for his honor and for his hand. I won. Wolfram did not have the right to break off our engagement by leaving." Yuuri met every one of the nobles' gazes, finally understanding. It was as if everything he'd ever done, everything Wolfram had ever said, made perfect sense. He straightened, pushing back the chair behind him. "I don't need your brides. I already have a fiancé that I love and I'm going to go find him."

And as he'd said it, he meant it. Yuuri Shibuya left the ten nobles staring in a mixture of shocked expressions, angry outcries, and more than a few ear-to-ear grins.

- o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o -

It didn't take long to find Wolfram. In fact, with Yozak leading the way into the Voltaire lands, Yuuri had to wonder if the orange-haired spy had known all along.

Come to think of it, Yozak had disappeared for nearly two weeks after Wolfram's disappearance. Yuuri had decided against ordering the spy after his fiancé originally; at the time he claimed he was giving the blond space to cool down but now knew, more than anything, he hadn't been ready to know where the prince was.

Because if he had known, he might have gone after him before he could understand why.

But now that the time had come, he realized Wolfram had made no attempt to hide himself from his king. Even without Yozak, who was happily humming in front of the procession, finding him wouldn't have been that difficult. The village folk were more than willing to admit the presence of the blond prince, passing through five months back.

Guilt fought to overwhelm him when he realized how simple it had been to find Wolfram. The blond hadn't tried to hide. Had he, as he always had, hoped that Yuuri would come after him?

The king fought down the guilt, knowing he was still causing his best friend pain to this very moment. The only way he was going to make this all right again, or as right as he could make it, was to find Wolfram and talk to him.

The prince, much to his surprise, was found at the base of a mountain only four miles from Gwendal's family castle, just off the main trail they were using. He stood in a small clearing within the forest where the road traveled through, watching them approach with a hand on the hilt of his sword. From his surroundings – a tent, a fire with embers still smoldering, and the sparse equipment on the ground – it was obvious he had been camping out during his missing months.

Yuuri was once more surprised, having unconsciously assumed that the boy would be staying in a grand castle or one of the mansions in his brother's lands. Once more, Wolfram von Bielefeld managed to shock him and only further the realization that he didn't know that much about the blond he called his fiancé.

"Wolfram," the soft name was out of his mouth before he'd registered that he was speaking. Slowly, he slid from his horse, black eyes cautiously noting the hand Wolfram had to his sword. Yuuri raised his hands slightly, a common gesture of peace. As he opened his mouth, he thought through his words carefully, both trying to be proper as a king confronting a soldier and comforting as a friend who had badly messed up.

"I'm sorry for showing up without warning," he began, wanting the blond to know that this wasn't about hunting him down. "I just needed to talk to you."

Green eyes, guarded against emotions that would have easily shown before, took in the rest of the King's party. Both his brothers sat stiffly on their mounts, though Conrad looked relieved to see him. He ignored them both, returning his attention to Yuuri. "And after we talk?"

The Japanese boy immediately bit down on his tongue, a lesson he had learned to do when he didn't understand a question. Instead of childishly blurting out 'huh?' or asking for clarification, he took the time to find the answer himself. It had taken a lot of practice, but he was getting quicker.

Trying to go over everything that had happened in the last five months, and the fact that Wolfram had asked this only after looking at the others, Yuuri decided it had to be about his desertion. If Gwendal had called it that, then surely Wolfram, who looked up to his older brother, would think of it the same way.

Yuuri hated the fact that the blond might believe they were there only to drag him back for punishment.

"I'm only here to talk," the double black explained after the stretched moment of thinking. The others, who usually would have answered for him, remained silent, knowing Yuuri was trying to grow through the changes of the past five months. "I'm not going to make you return with us, Wolfram."

The blond, taking in Yuuri's firm, though somewhat hesitant words, relaxed his stance slightly. His hand lowered from his sword and, as he did so, the others behind the king seemed to sit back somewhat. There had been little threat to begin with, but the formality of protecting their king, even against one of their own, had been a priority.

Yuuri, taking this as a good sign, turned around to his entourage. "Uh…could you guys give us some space?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He blushed a little at the request, not able to place the heat in his cheeks and so chalking it up to giving orders.

However, his words were heeded and Conrad led the others back down the trail they had come along. He knew that the brunette soldier wouldn't remain far away, but he was also aware that of all of them, Conrad was most likely to respect his request.

As they left, he turned back to Wolfram, giving a small smile and almost a half shrug, as if to ask _'now what?_' The gesture was not returned.

"Um…" the king let out a nervous laugh, still not able to lose all his boyish habits. He tried for another meek smile. "Greta misses you. She asks about you all the time…"

At Wolfram's narrowing eyes, Yuuri knew he had said the wrong thing, yet again. Nervousness had led him to ramble rather than think about the words he had promised himself he'd say. The words he needed to say.

This meeting couldn't be about what Wolfram had left behind. This couldn't be about others and their thoughts on the blond. This had to be about the king and his fiancé.

Because nothing, and no one else, could fix this.

"I'm rambling," he started suddenly, meeting Wolfram's emerald-colored eyes. "I know I am. I'm…I'm sorry."

Wolfram, who did know Yuuri better than anyone on the planet, was a little floored and suddenly uncertain at the immediate recognition and apology. The boy-king had certainly changed in his absence, he had realized that the moment Yuuri had answered the question he thought Gwendal would handle.

It seemed as if the king had grown up more in five months than he had in the entire six years he had known him. It created a hesitancy in Wolfram; the boy wasn't sure exactly what changes Yuuri had grown into, and therefore didn't know what to expect, or how to react appropriately. As a soldier, being thrown off balance was a terrifying aspect.

"I came here to tell you that I'm sorry." Yuuri was talking again, his black eyes desperately trying to convey their sincerity, oblivious to the internal struggle and disarray he had caused within his best friend. "For everything."

Wolfram stiffened and, having grown somewhat as well, bit down on his own tongue so he wouldn't let his anger overwhelm his words. So he wouldn't yell that sorry wasn't going to fix anything. So he wouldn't tell Yuuri that none of it mattered, because he had come for him. So he wouldn't launch a fireball at the king. So he wouldn't launch himself, desperately missing the touch of the double black.

"We always mean what we say." Green eyes focused sharply on the king before him, dragged out of the war he held within his mind and heart. The very words he had hated so passionately these past five months, as well as the year leading up to his desertion, drove away any of the pitiful longing he had for this king.

He clenched his fists automatically, one tightening over the hilt of his sword once more. It shook in its sheath.

But this was not their normal mantra. It was not the words that had driven him to realize their love was one-sided, and always would be. They were not the words he had grown to despise as much as he did himself.

Emerald eyes took in the king before him, trying to figure out what he was saying, where he was going. And trying to do it all while battling his anger and heartache.

Yuuri fidgeted. He was still no public speaker, nor a great orator of his thoughts or emotions, and it was every more difficult with Wolfram's hand returned to his sword.

Wolfram would never hurt him. Not physically.

He supposed he and his prince had that much in common. He would never hurt the blond boy physically. There was a time when he would have said 'on purpose' which, to some extent, was true. He had never meant to hurt Wolfram, but he had meant what he said and did that had resulted in the prince's pain.

So he couldn't claim he hadn't purposefully hurt him.

"Whether we want to or not, when we say something, we've thought about it, somewhere up in our minds, maybe not even knowing we've thought it." But this was what this was all about. Showing Wolfram that he recognized his mistakes, that he knew he had hurt him. And that he never would again.

He was rambling and he knew it. But he also knew that he was at least on the right topic, the one he needed to be on. And Wolfram wasn't running away. "But we have thought it, and we mean it when we say it. Even if we don't mean _to_ say it, we always mean what we say."

The blond was regarding him with a closed expression, something he had never seen on the boy before. Wolfram had obviously learned to better control his anger, all his emotions, just as Yuuri had gotten a better handle on his own thoughts and words.

But even having previously known so little about the blond, after five months of non-stop thinking about him (missing him, _wanting_ him), he wasn't oblivious to that spark of hope hidden in those green eyes.

So he cautiously stepped towards the blond, as one does a wild animal that may buck and charge at any time, or take flight and flee. He took another step, and another, stopping only when Wolfram tensed. They were no more than five feet apart, but Yuuri's heart and body ached at the distance. For five months, his heart had remained constantly wounded, his body suffering the ups and downs of realizing his attraction. There had been nothing he could do to ease the pain and discomfort.

So now that said attraction was so close, he didn't want to be one foot away, let alone five.

"I don't always say what I mean to say," Yuuri continued again, forcing himself to ignore the way his body hummed at the very prospect of being so close to the blond. He still didn't fully understand it, mostly because thinking about it made the narrow-minded part of his socially brought-up mind shudder, but it was a pleasant feeling: an excited thrill that made him almost giddy.

"I stumble, and I can't think straight, especially around you." The king wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore, having lost check of his words somewhere around the time his heart started to beat louder in his ears than his own voice. But he trusted himself to say what he meant and mean what he said.

After all, he had a habit of doing it.

Wolfram looked as if he wanted to take a step back, but he held his ground, his pride being something he hadn't even begun to tackle in the five months of his absence. His grip on his sword, though his fisting hand wanted to hold tightly, loosened, knowing that his defensive stance against the king would be viewed as an insult.

Not that Yuuri would ever notice.

But the thing Wolfram hadn't quite grasped, with the changes he couldn't comprehend, was that Yuuri did notice. He noticed when the blond struggled not to back away. He noticed when the prince reluctantly released his sword.

And though he took such things as good signs of his progress, he also realized that Wolfram was still the soldier and subject, worried more for how he stood before the king then how he was seen before a friend.

The suspicion was there, among the hope Wolfram was trying to hide and the calculations his royal upbringing was forcing him to make. Even as he fought to hide anything he might be feeling, even as he tried to discern what would be the best course of action as a subject and ex-fiance of a king, Yuuri could see that Wolfram was there: angry, hurt, and afraid.

But the boy-king had nothing to hide. He had before, he just hadn't been aware of it.

"I should have said what I meant that night, Wolfram," he continued, confidence building with every step he took forward that Wolfram didn't counter; with every glimmer of emotion in those green eyes. "I should have told you that you mean the world to me; that I can't function without you; that you were- are- always will be everything to me.

"But I didn't know it that night, so I didn't say it." Wolfram was shaking and suddenly turned away, hiding his vulnerability from the Maou – from the man he still loved, despite how hard he had tried for five long months to hate.

Yuuri's hand grasped a pale wrist. Wolfram tensed at the touch, not daring to glance over his shoulder at the king; at black eyes so sincere and truthful that he found himself terrified to dismiss them and even more terrified to believe in them.

"So I'm saying it now," Yuuri's voice had lowered, grown softer, as if he didn't want the very trees around them to hear. This moment, what he needed to say, was for Wolfram's ears only. "Because I don't always say what I mean, and I can't screw this up again. I can't live without you any longer, Wolfram."

The blond didn't resist as his king turned him around, bringing them face to face. Yuuri hadn't physically changed at all in the five months; still wimpy and boyish as ever in looks, but his eyes were older, far more understanding than they ever had been before. The distance between them was closed as the Japanese boy took the last step forward. His grip on Wolfram's wrist kept the boy from backing away, not that he had the willpower to do so under his king's black gaze.

Keeping their eyes locked, Yuuri lowered himself to one knee, causing emeralds to widen in a mixture of shock, panic, and embarrassment. Something in the back of his mind, something he had contemplated on the trip here, told him Wolfram wasn't aware of this Earth custom, and probably thought it very wrong for a King to bow before a subject.

But Yuuri didn't care.

"Wolfram von Bielefeld, I am hopelessly in love with you." Yuuri moved his grip from Wolfram's forearm to his hand, entwining their fingers as he looked up at the angelic figure of Shin Makoku's future Prince Consort. "Will you marry me?"

The blond looked away, fiercely blinking tears out of his eyes and hating himself for the overly emotional reaction to such a sappy scene. His heart longed to believe the king, but the scars crossing it were as ever stubborn as their owner.

"Do you mean it?" he asked, voice so quiet he wasn't sure if Yuuri would hear him. He cleared his throat and repeated the question, throwing in more of his trade-mark arrogance to hide the weakness in his voice.

Yuuri smiled gently as a little more of Wolfram's true nature – that nature he had somehow fallen in love with – came out. He took both of Wolfram's hands in his own, running his thumbs experimentally in circles over the skin, as he'd seen in all those romance movies his mother made him watch with her as a child.

The bright blush on Wolfram's cheeks was worth the hours of torment at the hands of Miko Shibuya.

"I always mean what I say," he replied, that smile taking a light air of humor to it. "You taught me that." At Wolfram's light glare – a warning that he better answer seriously – he cleared his throat, stuttering for a moment. "B-But, I meant it…and it's everything I've wanted to say for five months. Even if I didn't know if for four of them."

Slowly, he stood, more of a king than he had ever been before; a man finally meeting his potential as he stood before his intended. "I love you, Wolfram von Bielefeld, and I will say it every day for the rest of my life if makes you happy." At the slight narrowing of green eyes, Yuuri smiled his cheerful, boyish smile. "And I'll keep saying it, even after you get sick of hearing it, because it makes _me_ happy."

Green eyes, still unsure but longing to accept the words spoken, closed shut out of instinct as Yuuri raised his right hand and softly slapped the blond's left cheek. Wolfram stared, wide-eyed, at the double black before him, who was still smiling, though far more gently than he had ever seen.

It was a smile similar to the ones he would share with his mother, or Conrad, which would usually send Wolfram into a rage, except the boy's eyes were different. Yuuri was staring at him – solely him – with the most caring, _loving, _look he had ever seen on the King.

"Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

The prince could do nothing but stare, still shocked and unable to comprehend the events of the last five minutes. But as his brain caught up, and he realized there were indeed tears now running down his cheeks, he let out a loud huff, crossed his arms, and turned his head sharply to the side, pointing his nose up into the sky.

"What a wimpy way to propose!" he rebuked indignantly, but glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye. Yuuri was grinning ear to ear. It only infuriated Wolfram more and he faced his fiancé, hands on his hips and forehead creasing. "To think: a King kneeling before a traitor! And what kind of grammar is 'do me the honor!' I've never heard anything so preposterou-"

Wolfram yelped, anything further he had been planning on saying cut off as Yuuri let out a joyous laugh and all but tackled the boy, taking both of them to the forest ground. The blond blushed, sputtering as his spastic body attempted to regain his lost dignity and push the boy-king off of him.

Yuuri just continued to laugh, tightening his arms around the other boy's waist, lying atop him. His body was practically buzzing with the contact, and he soaked in the feeling of the body beneath his, even if it continued to send his Earth-trained mind into a frenzy.

He wasn't ever letting go, no matter how much his social upbringing argued with him. Because Wolfram had called him a wimp, and he always called Yuuri a wimp when he was happy.

"I don't care if you think it's wimpy or preposterous, or whatever!" Yuuri pulled away enough to look Wolfram in the eye, his own cheeks matching the boy's light flush. "Just say yes."

Wolfram, flustered, blushing, and trying very hard to regain his pride and composure, glanced to the side before meeting his love's black eyes and muttering, "Yes, you wimp."

- o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o -

Acquiescing Affinity

_The reluctant agreement that we do, in fact, belong together_

- o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o -

Well, there's the sequel. I have to admit, I'm not as happy with the overall result as I am with Intransigent Incompatibility, but at the same time, there are parts of this one I like more.

Thank you all so much for your support, reviews, and requests for continuation! There's nothing better for an author than to know one's story is liked. So thank you all very much!

**Author's Notes:**

…_I am hopelessly in love with you_…I can just see Yuuri, clueless on how to proclaim his love, using something so cheesy that he probably got from some sappy movie Mama-chan forced him to watch as a child.

**End Author's Notes**

Thank you again for all your support, I hope you enjoyed and please review, if you would, to let me know how I did.


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